Churaa Liyaa...

The theme song of If It's Tuesday, This Must Be Belgium, is the melody line of a Bollywood 'classic'. Even middle of road pop bands like Boney M and Abba have not been spared. The lifts continue minus any acknowledgement.

One of the most hyped up form of music is what is
churned out by Bollywood. Simply put, it is assembly line production. The
lyric rarely rises above the syrupy Moon-June love song. It is severely
circumscribed by the `Happy to be in love. Lost without love' concept. The
words are determined by the storyline of the film. So are the melodies, which
are, more often than not, lifted.

Down the ages from the Beatles to obscure Spanish
songs to rock musicals--all have been welded into stretches of melody
with a little Indian touch. This is not fusion but plagiarism. In the West, that
is what it would be described as. In Bollywood they call it being
inspired. Even the great Bollywood composers stand guilty. It would indeed be heartbreaking
for many fans if they are told that melody of that `classic'
track from Sholay--Mehbooba-- was nicked lock, stock and barrel from a hit
song, Say You Love Me, by Demis Roussos.

So one has heard Kishore Kumar sing a Mary Hopkin
or an Osibisa tune. Mohammed Rafi has belted out an old Beatles song from
their early Rock 'n Roll years. The theme song of If It's Tuesday, This Must
Be Belgium, is the melody line of a Bollywood classic. Even middle of road pop
bands like Boney M and Abba have not been spared. The lifts continue
minus any acknowledgement. The songs are touted as original scores by
the maestros of Bollywood.

One story I've heard from a guitarist who works
the studios in Chennai and Mumbai is of two music directors asking him
to play a riff they claimed was specially composed with him in mind. It turned
out be an old instrumental --Come September-- which he had learnt in his first
few guitar lessons in school. That passed off as the hit Love You Raja.

All this is not to undermine the undisputable vocal capabilities and range of
the likes of Mohammed Rafi, Lata Mangeshkar, Asha Bhosle and Kishore Kumar. It
is most unfortunate that they, as well as the singers of today, are forced to
operate under a system which severely limits the creative process to an extent
that it cramps the compositional ability of even talented music
directors. Which is the reason why one has to do a major rewind to spot
flashes of excellence. For most part Bollywood music has always been borrowed
bubble gum pop of the day.

Why is Bollywood short on originality? It has
never provided any space to composers, lyricists or musicians. Despite the
gerat Indian classical tradition of experimentation and exploration, those who
play instruments in film sangeet are never given room to open up. Flute plays
a line. Sitar plays a line. Some other instrument chips in with a four second
piece. And then the melody takes over. If one closely hears the orchestration
for violins they all have the same cliched ring to it.

Sometimes originality is stifled by the producer
who brings with him the song that must be copied. Very often a composer is
hired for the melodies he has in hand which have passed the test abroad. What
works in the west will work here is the mantra. There have been exceptions
where music directors have sought inspiration from our own roots. But the
overall response to the great Indian folk tradition has been weak. Bollywood
has ensured that no popular form of music ever evolves. Even the Hindi pop
bands which have emerged today are rooted in Bollywood or are inspired by
Pakistani sufi-rock bands.

In the 70s and 80s, critics did not rave about Bollywood music like they do
today. Then too there were songs which became big hits. Melodies that an
entire nation sang. But no one analysed filmi music to gave it the `classic'
stamp. It was the 90s which set the trend of toasting everything associated
with Bollywood. Perhaps it was linked to the rise of neo-patriotism which made
it virtually mandatory to lavish praise on everything Indian including our
films and our songs. This naturally necessitated an interest in old film songs
since it was difficult to give a five star rating to most modern music
directors whose blatant lifts were all too plain to see, thanks to the music
channels on TV.

Watching the rushes of Amar Kanwar's Night of Prophecy and trying to figure the background score was an
enlightening experience. The film focussed on protest music from the very heart of India.
Ordinary folk singing about the harsh reality around them and how they were being
exploited by the system. The lyrics were penned by them, the melody was
theirs. These were not communist party activists writing a score dictated by
Karl Marx. They were people of the earth and had an anger, compassion and drive
absent in film music.

And what of today's film music? It's all about
loops and pitch correctors. Punch in the song word by word. If the singer goes
off key it can be corrected digitally. The `Spices of India' loops
sourced either from London or Singapore gives you all the folk sounds from
Bhangra to the boat songs of Bengal. Lift the loop, multiply it into as many
bars you want on the computer and you have laid down the track. With bass
loops, drum loops, guitar loops and even western classical loops easily
available, putting a track down is that much easy.

"But even British and American musicians do that,"
would be the argument. Yes, but the better ones create their own loops. They
also research their music, searching for new beats and sounds from Memphis to
Malibu to Mysore. And more importantly when they use a tune or even adapt it,
it is acknowledged on the sleeve note.

In addition to his day job as a senior editor, Ajith Pillai
loves to sing the Outlook Blues.